What Tears Us Down: A Single Dad Standalone Romance (Arrow Creek Book 3)

by A. M. Wilson

  Her willingness to take charge quiets some of my anxiety. I nod and let my attention flit away. The door opens, but I’m lost to memories. Caiti’s waterlogged voice on the other end of the phone delivering news I never thought I’d hear. Plans for the future quashed in an instant while a new tangent for my life forms. Losing my parents was sudden, and I thought that was hard.

  But Eric was my lifeline. How does a person live without their lifeline?

  Cami returns quickly with a stack of clothes in her hand, reminding me of the cold residing within my bones. I’ve been shaking for so long I can’t differentiate between the emotions or the chill. My muscles ache from the relentless shivering.

  “Let’s get you into something warm and dry. I have soup ready, and heaters are running in the guest bedroom so you can eat and sleep.”

  “How can I sleep when I’m already dreaming?”

  A sigh slips free. Cami sets the folded clothes on the edge of the vanity and plucks a men’s hooded sweatshirt from the top. “You aren’t dreaming, honey. It takes a while to adjust, but you’re going to get through this.”

  I dash away a tear with the back of my hand. “You can’t possibly know that.”

  She helps me change out of the top Rhett slid on me with clinical efficiency. Taking my hand, she encourages me to stand. With the hem of the sweater covering my bottom, I pluck my wet panties from my skin and let them drop to the floor. As she extends a pair of men’s sweatpants, it hits me that these are Rhett’s clothes. The thought soothes a bit of the heartache.

  “My brother died from leukemia when I was pregnant with Evelyn, and I’d lost my parents before that,” she shares tenderly. Her eye contact remains steady. “Everyone is different with their grief. When you find that something that makes you feel close to him, it gets a bit easier.”

  “Did you find something?”

  “I did. And you will too, honey. But it isn’t going to be today.”

  “Oh, God.” I choke on a gut-wrenching sob, wrapping my arms around my abdomen. “This isn’t going to stop.”

  “Shh, I know.” Her arms encircle my shoulders. “Let it out.”

  The door to the guest bathroom bursts open and bangs against the wall behind it, startling us both. Rhett enters with a fierce look of determination on his face.

  “My turn.”

  Cami turns me easily into Rhett’s outstretched arms. I don’t have an ounce of combative energy left in my body.

  “I’ve got you.”

  We only need to maneuver around one corner before I’m in the guest bedroom. The scent of vanilla and smoke from a nearby candle gives me something else to focus on. Cami must have lit the wick and turned down the covers in preparation for my arrival. Rhett leads me to the queen-sized bed where I sit heavily on the plush mattress.

  “You’re not wearing socks.”

  Not needing my confirmation as he can see clearly for himself, Rhett opens a set of drawers and returns with a thick pair tucked in a ball.

  “I moved in this room the day I found out Nora was cheating on me. I’m glad to see she didn’t trash all my shit when I moved out.” He talks as he slides the thick material over each foot. His gentle touch stirs my slumbered feelings for him, and when he squeezes each foot in a hand, my heart jolts. “Up you go.”

  He helps lift my legs and pulls a heavy gray duvet over my lap before sliding a tray within reach. Steam curls into the air from the hot bowl of a cream-based soup.

  “You need to eat. Are the heaters too much?”

  “They feel great.” I burrow into the fluffy mattress as the penetrating warmth brings along the fog of sleep. My heavy lids close.

  The bed dips with Rhett’s weight. He fits himself behind me, legs bent so we’re touching from top to toe. One arm slips beneath my head, and the other wraps snug around my middle. He fiddles with a strand of hair fanned on the mattress.

  “Whatever you need, I’m here,” he murmurs.

  My breath hitches. “I know.”

  “Nathan and Law are on their way to pick up your car.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Kiersten found us plane tickets for tomorrow. We’ll confirm with Caiti later after you’ve had some rest.” He goes on without waiting for my response. “Whatever Caiti needs too.”

  “I can’t talk about this right now.” Or ever. This has to be a nightmare even though, deep down, I know it isn’t. Grief changes a person swiftly and without mercy. There’s no taking that sort of news back. No number of I’m sorrys will rearrange the gaping hole left behind. All I can do is place one foot in front of the other. One step at a time.

  The rest will fall into place. Whatever that may be. Except I can’t see more than five minutes into my future because each time I try to think beyond that, the pain rears its ugly head and shows me all the happy and sad things in my life Eric will miss.

  Rhett doesn’t respond. His arm cinches tighter, and his lips press firmly against the back of my head. I ride the feeling of his heavy inhale against my back. I focus on his steady breaths, allowing the rhythmic motion to quiet the storm for tonight.

  As the first rays of dawn bled through the open curtains this morning, I snuck out of bed and turned off Rhett’s alarm an hour before it was due to sound. Cami had already taken Ghost home with her in preparation for us to leave, so my priorities were sorted. I drove myself to the airport without Rhett and haphazardly shoved items from my car into a carry-on. Caiti needs me without distractions, and bringing Rhett along would allow my own pain to engulf me.

  I need to remain strong.

  A swoop of turbulence sends my heart into overdrive. My fingers grip the armrest, and I close my eyes until the flight resumes the smooth cruise. The stale recycled air prompts a headache to form. I should sleep the remaining hour until we touch down at Denver International, but I can’t smother my racing thoughts.

  I wiggle my phone from my pocket and reread the text Caiti sent me late last night for the hundredth time.

  Caiti: An aneurysm or a heart defect is their best guess until the autopsy comes back. I can’t sleep without picturing him next to me. What if he tried to wake me, and I didn’t hear him?

  If the text is any indication, she’s haunted by her thoughts. We went back and forth late into the night as Rhett snoozed curled behind my back. I reassured her there was nothing she could have done, but I have a feeling my words failed to impact.

  Exiting that thread, I scroll down one conversation to read the message I sent to Rhett this morning.

  Me: I need space to process, and I need to be there for Caiti. I’m sorry I left without you, but it’s for the best. Please don’t call.

  The succinct words drive my point home, or so I hope. He didn’t reach out before I boarded, so either he was still asleep or he honored my wishes. Either way, a bitter pill of guilt sours my gut. And even though only a few hours have passed, I miss him already.

  God. The ghostly sensation of his strong arms around me twinges my sides. Regret whittles my heart like a carving knife. I’m torn between riding out my hasty decision or begging Rhett to hop on the next flight as soon as I regain cell service.

  The ding of the seat belt sign signals our descent. A few silent prayers later, we safely touch down in Colorado. The desperation to find Caiti singes my manners and rushes me off the flight out of turn, grumbles of other customers chasing me down the aisle.

  My carry-on dangles from wilted fingertips as I scan the masses. Her shiny black hair bobs behind an elderly gentleman’s shoulder, followed by the rest of her when the man moves in another direction. Complete control is lost at the sight of her. My feet carry me in a near sprint along her path.

  We cling to one another with shaking limbs. Our reunion is bound to end up viral on social media. I find myself unable to care as I clutch my only remaining family member like a lifeline. Tears break free from the gates holding them back all morning, and I cry into her silken hair. Inadequate words of condolences and sorrow lodge in my vocal
cords. Incalculable time passes before a broad figure interrupts.

  I lift tear-soaked cheeks and find myself staring at the face of my ex-fiancé, Tate.

  Tall, broad, and muscular, he looks as good as he always has, though I immediately notice the absence of something deeper. His attractive features do nothing for me. A welcome thought mingled with the rest of the chaotic emotions.

  “We should move this to the car,” he advises thickly.

  A nod follows a hitched sob. Caiti loops her arm with mine, and with tears still streaking our cheeks, we walk out into the sunshine.

  “Where’s Rhett?” Her hoarse voice slices the remainder of my heart into ribbons.

  “Oh, Caiti,” I sob, the heartache at missing him increasing with each mile Tate drives us away from the airport. “I didn’t let him come.”

  Her huff holds soggy disbelief. “How did you manage that one? When we confirmed details yesterday, he seemed ready to take on the world for you.”

  The memories of his tenderness submerge me further into this depression.

  “I snuck out this morning before he woke up,” I confess and trap my lower lip between my teeth. The sting does nothing to calm the remorse. “Once I was in the air, I realized how badly I wanted him to come with me.”

  “Evie…” Her watery sentence trails off. She glances discreetly at Tate in the driver’s seat, seemingly oblivious to our quiet conversation in the back.

  “I can’t keep running. I don’t know why I did, but I wish I could go back to this morning.”

  Caiti takes a shuddered breath. “I think you’re falling for him.” Her voice cracks at the end.

  “Shh, honey, we don’t have to talk about this.” I drag her into my arms in order to buy time. This discussion is on my list of topics to avoid. For my sake and for hers. She just lost the love of her life, and my feelings are too confusing to admit in the open.

  “You don’t want to waste any time.” The passion in her voice is startling. So much so, I swallow any retort. The topic files easily away to revisit later when I’m alone.

  Her head fits into the space beneath my chin, and I hold her tight.

  “Tell me about your plans.”

  “Eric would hate a memorial service.” She grimaces. “He mentioned once that the idea of an open casket freaked him out and made me promise to have him cremated, so that’s what we’re going to do.”

  I have to let out a slow, steady breath before I can ask my next question. I have no doubt she can feel the heavy rise and fall of my chest.

  “Are we going to spread his ashes?”

  She shakes her head against me. “He isn’t ready yet. I want to do something now while you’re here. Something that feels right in honoring the man he was.”

  “I can stay as long as you need me.” My arms twitch in a punctuated squeeze.

  “I’ll be flying back to Germany in a few days. Sorting up our life together isn’t something I can do in a short span of time. You have to return to your own life. Once I’m ready, I’ll move back to the States and stay with my parents for a while until I can get back on my feet.”

  “You’re welcome to stay in Arrow Creek with me.”

  “I know.”

  The ache in my chest grows as I think about all the tasks she needs to manage. “I’m here for you. Please let me know if there’s anything I can do to make it easier.”

  “This is it.” She huddles deeper into my hold and wraps her arm around one of mine. “This is all I need from you. He was your brother. You’re mourning him equally as hard as I am. At least this way, we can honor him together.”

  I blink away a sudden onslaught of tears.

  “He would love that.”

  28

  Rhett

  Parked across the street from Calypso’s, I hold my cell to my ear. The guys dragged me out for drinks, knowing damn well it’s a failed endeavor. Evie’s sudden departure was a blow I didn’t expect, though not a surprising one considering how she rolled into town. She might be a chronic runner, but I have no doubt she’ll return to me.

  And I’ll be ready.

  “Hello?” A man’s voice answers cautiously. Calling this number is a last-ditch effort. I take a deductive guess who’s on the other line.

  “Is this Tate?”

  “This is, but this isn’t Tate’s phone.”

  “I’m calling to see if Evie’s there safe.” She left without me and took my beating heart with her. I only hope she remembers to bring it back in one piece.

  Tate clears his throat. “I’m going to assume since your name came up on the screen that Eric knew who you are to his sister. Do you mind telling me who you are?”

  “I’m her boyfriend.” I detect no lies from my side. She might subscribe to a different story.

  “That so? What boyfriend doesn’t take a cross-country flight to his girlfriend’s brother’s memorial?”

  I rub a fist against my sternum. “It’s complicated and up to her if she wants to share.”

  “My best friend died, so don’t take this as me being a douche when I say I’m not sure that answer is good enough.”

  “The problem with that statement is what concerns her doesn’t have to be good enough for you. Not anymore.”

  A long pause follows from his end. “She’s here,” he confirms.

  “She good?”

  “Do you want to talk to her?” A hint of bitterness is detectable in his tone.

  I run my palm over my mouth, ignoring the stab of hurt. “She needs her space. As long as I know she’s safe, I can give it to her.”

  “Okay.” He draws out the sound. “Do you want me to let her know you called?”

  “No. What I want you to do is give me your word you’ll look out for her.”

  He huffs a humorless laugh. “I don’t know if she told you what happened between us, but if she did, I can’t imagine you’d be making that statement.”

  “She did,” I confirm, bracing for where he’s going with this.

  “Then you realize I’m in a position to work things out with her while she’s here and away from you.” Her ex can’t hide the slightly smug note, grief over his best friend be damned.

  I nearly snarl. “I think if you’re any sort of man, you’ll realize using her vulnerable position as a way to win her back is a fucked-up move. Especially after what happened between the two of you.”

  “I guess we’ll see how much you trust her. You might regret letting her go without you. I know I do.” He says the last part quietly, but I hear him loud and clear.

  The difference is he let her leave his life, pushed her toward the door even. She didn’t give me much choice. Leaving the way she did staved off an argument but left me with more questions than answers.

  “Thanks for confirming she’s safe. I mean that. But if you so much as try to change her mind about you, you won’t win.”

  I pull my cell from my ear and end the call. My fingers twitch to pull up her contact and reach out again. She made it clear with her departure that she needed this time alone, and who am I to deny her that?

  I told him I trust her. That remains true. What I don’t trust is this guy’s sleazy intentions.

  Before I break my promise and send her a string of texts, I tuck my phone in my pocket and climb from my Jeep. A drink will give me time to clear my thoughts and decide what to do next.

  A quiet hum of chatter greets me along with a blast of air-conditioning. The smell of beer and fried food is like a beacon welcoming me home. I expected a Thursday night to be busier. I easily spot Law and Nathan sitting at the bar and chatting with Dane. A smirk slides into place. A little over a year ago, I wouldn’t have imagined these two getting along so easily. Goes to show how much things can change.

  My own life is a testament.

  The scrape of a stool against the floor announces my arrival, and three sets of eyes swing in my direction. A whiskey slides in front of me without invitation.

  “Hey.” Nathan greets me firs
t, stretching out a leg.

  Law knocks twice on the bar top. “Glad you could come out for a bit.”

  “Kiersten and Cami all but booted me out for the opportunity to spend time with Tommy.”

  “What’s the story there?” Dane puts in. He dries a highball glass with a crisp white towel.

  “What story where?” I toss back and take a sip. The whiskey heats a path down my throat, warming the ice in my gut from the phone call.

  “You. Tommy. The divorce.”

  I lean back and crook an elbow on the gleaming bar. Do I chalk it up to talk or use it as an opportunity to come clean to my friends?

  At my reluctance, Dane persists. “People talk, man. Supposedly, Nora’s moved in with her boss, and there’s talk about them transferring to a branch in Florida.”

  “News to me,” I mutter, noting that it isn’t unwelcome. None of her decisions in this have been forced or influenced by me. She’s made her choices of her own damn free will.

  “Where’d you hear that?” Law asks.

  “Her boss’s secretary was in the other day with some girlfriends. She couldn’t keep Nora’s name out of her mouth. Or yours.” Dane smirks at me.

  “Fuck off.”

  Dane chuckles. Nathan eyes me critically.

  “You did mention needing my real estate agent’s name. I don’t get that.” He drinks quickly from his beer. “The two of you shared that big fucking house, which I get probably wasn’t too hard not to see each other with the size of that thing, but the second she moves out, you sell.”

  “I wasn’t living there.” The truth spills past the gates with startling ease.

  “You what?” Law pauses with his highball glass near his mouth. “Where were you living then?”

  I’ve put this conversation off for long enough. “When I couldn’t find a warm bed to occupy, I slept at the truck stop.”

  “You’re shitting me,” Nathan grits out. “I had two fucking houses!”